“I’ve never heard of such a Trial before. But the Martial Arts are strange sometimes. Essence behaves as it wants, and if it chose you, you’re all the better for it.”
That wasn’t exactly an answer, but Roy was at least happy to hear that stories like his, while rare, weren’t unheard of.
“Why exactly is Power essence so rare, and why do so few choose it?”
“The type of Essence that is compatible with one’s core is solely based on their character and their outlook. The four elemental types are the most common, with roughly every one in three being compatible with either Water, Fire, Earth or Wind.
“The Darkness and Light Essence ratio is a bit rarer than that, with roughly every one in twenty being compatible with each. They can also be compatible with an elemental type Essence, but most that can choose either would sooner go with one of them. While these are more abstract than the elemental Paths, they are still understandable and relatively easy to cultivate.
“Lastly, we come to Power and Weakness. These are the two most abstract, and interchangeable aspects of Essence available to a Martial Artist. They are also some of the most difficult to cultivate if you don’t have the right tools or are not in the correct location. Therefore, most will pass on the opportunity to do so. I’m sure you’ve already noticed how difficult it is to train, seeing as you’re still at 1st Dan White at your age. I’m guessing that’s why you came here?”
Roy nodded, fascinated by the history of the Essence types and happy to finally have someone to explain it to him.
“Based on all of this, how long do you think it’ll take me to reach 2nd Dan?” Roy asked eagerly. This was an extremely important question, as his life literally hung in the balance. He had roughly twenty days to advance before he would die, and he had to know if he could make it.
“Advancement?” the old man asked with a snort. “There’s no way I’m going to let you advance for at least six months! Your base is too weak. If you advance before then, you won’t make it very far, perhaps to Orange. Maybe Green, if you’re lucky.”
“Six months?” Roy exclaimed, “I can’t wait that long!”
“Oh?” Irusaru asked with a raised eyebrow, “And why not?”
“Because…” Roy faltered, not sure if he should be giving away his secret.
He hardly knew this old man. What would he do if he found out that he had absorbed a Dungeon core and was using it to power his Martial Arts?
“You’ll have to trust someone eventually,” Geon said. “He’s been honest with us so far. I think we can trust him.”
“We literally met this man not two hours ago, and you’re ready to spill our biggest secret?”
“Why not? It’s not like I care who you tell. What are they going to do? Kill you and try to harvest me from your corpse?”
Geon had hit the nail on the head with that one. It was exactly what he was afraid of. That, and that the old man would refuse to take him in and denounce him as a freak, just as everyone else had done his entire life.
“Well? Do you have a reason for having to advance in sooner than six months, Herald Leroy?”
Roy’s flinch at the use of his full name wasn’t lost on the old man. The boy was an enigma. He was too old to be a White-Belt, even if the Essence had been sparse. He had to have come from a clan. Otherwise, there was no way he’d still be alive. But he’d never heard of the Herald clan. The boy’s appearance was strange as well. He looked nothing like anyone from around here.
Just from that information alone, he guessed that the boy had most likely been adopted, and by a clan that hadn’t treated him well. It wasn’t uncommon for outsiders to be treated badly, but it still didn’t explain why he was so weak. It wasn’t just his advancement rank, but his overall physical strength, as well. It was severely lacking.
Yet he’d performed some pretty daring maneuvers, and even formed a fairly advanced Projected technique all on his own. If he hadn’t been watching the boy for nearly a month, he would have thought he was some sort of genius. But with him, it seemed to be more dumb luck than anything else. It had to be either that or a great amount of misfortune. However it was put, Roy had survived some pretty dangerous situations where someone of his advancement should have ended up dead.
And now there was the insistence of advancement. He could understand wanting to become stronger after what he’d been through in the last few weeks. If his life truly had been difficult, it would only add to his will to grow stronger. But that would have to wait until he built up his base a bit more.
Roy’s shoulders slumped.
“No. There’s no reason I have to advance sooner than six months from now.”
His eyes narrowed just a fraction of an inch further, before turning back to the road ahead. The boy was clearly lying to him. Something was most definitely wrong here, and he would have to figure it out. He’d been carefully observing his odd behavior over the past few weeks and had noticed the powerful artifact he had tucked away in his robe pocket. How a White-Belt with no clan had gotten his hands on a treasure like that was a complete mystery as well, and Tonde Irusaru did not like questions he couldn’t answer.
They continued on, walking for the rest of the day, Roy asking questions and Irusaru either answering them to his satisfaction or not at all. They finally stopped to set up camp when the light had completely vanished from the sky and it was too dark for Roy to see. Although lightning continuously flashed across the sky, the ground was still treacherous underfoot.
Once they stopped, Irusaru propped his back up against a spire of stone and promptly closed his eyes. Roy stared at the old man for a few seconds, wondering if he was really going to sleep without so much as a word or bite to eat.
“Well, boy, what are you waiting for? A written invitation?”
Roy started as the old man spoke up, without even bothering to open his eyes.
“What?” he asked.
It felt like he’d been asking that around the old man a lot.
“A fire. Food. Tea. Best get to it.”
Roy bristled at being treated like a servant. He’d spent far too long taking orders from others and being pushed around for being too weak, and now this old man was trying to do the same.
“Why can’t you do it yourself?” he asked, trying to keep the heat out of his voice.
The old man’s eyes snapped open at that, and he gave him a hard look.
“Is that how a disciple speaks to his master?”
“As far as I can tell, you haven’t actually taught me anything yet,” Roy replied, folding his arms over his chest. “And I’m no one’s servant.”
The two of them stared at one another for a few long moments, the air between them growing thick with tension.
Roy wasn’t sure where all this courage was coming from, but he knew that he didn’t want to spend the rest of his time at the old man’s school being his personal slave. If that was the price of admission, then he would take his chances on his own.
“You believe that preparing a meal for an old man is beneath you?” Irusaru said, rising from his seat and conjuring a ball of golden light.
He cast his hand upward, sending the ball into the air, where it fixed itself in place ten feet over their heads. He folded his arms behind his back once more and fixed his gaze on Roy.
“No. I don’t think helping an old man is beneath me,” Roy replied, his eyes narrowing as they adjusted to the light. “But I’m not your servant. If that’s how you’re planning on treating me, then I’ll just be on my way.”
“It is not servitude, it is respect,” Irusaru answered. “All disciples must show deference to their teachers. It shows humility, gratitude and, above all, respect.”
“How does catering to your every whim constitute respect? I know how this goes. For now, it’s only dinner, but by the time we reach this school of yours, I’ll be washing your clothes and rubbing your feet.”